Never Too Late
by Disenchantment
Summary: You can never be too late... GregSara. [I'm going through and editingcleaning up the chapters. Same story, but better.]
1. Never

A/N: I don't own them, The Powers That Be do. I know it's been a while since I've updated this story, but I wanted to go through and edit/clean everything up.

Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated.

--------

"Can you call me back Sara? I'm too busy right now." he said as he closed his phone without waiting for an answer. Grissom went back to the words typed in front of him; unable to concentrate due to the interruption. "Damn it Sara!"

--------

"It's been 15 minuets since shift started. Where the hell is she?" Grissom looked around at his coworkers trying to find an answer, but all he got was shrugs and murmurs of "No idea."

Grissom sighed as he looked back around the room mentally trying to figure out who he could spare to go check up on Sara. His eyes landed on the youngest CSI who was staring off in to space.

"Greg!" Grissom said louder than usual to wake him out of his trace.

Greg's eyes lost their gaze and he returned to the present moment. "Yea Boss?" he asked.

"I want you to go to Sara's apartment to see if she's okay." Grissom said looking over his case files. Catherine and Warrick got the 'dead body' at the plaza, Nick got the 'break and enter' on Kirkwood, and he would have the other 'dead body' at the Mirage and all the paperwork that needed to be done last week.

Greg knew that it was pointless to try to argue with Grissom over this. When it came to Sara he just had to take everything as it came. One day it seemed like those two were a married couple, the next they were arguing over the silliest things.

"Sure. Fine. I'll go." Greg replied as he stood up and grabbed his coat, which he had draped over the back of his chair. Without another word he left.

--------

"Sara?" Greg asked as he tried the door knob expecting the resistance of a lock. Sara was known for the locks in her house; two on her front door, two for her bedroom, and one on at least every door in her house, save the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator. When he turned the knob he found that the cylinder slid smoothly back with a gentle click, but the door did not open.

Pushing the wooden door forward he found resistance that let the door open only inches. "Sara?" He couldn't see what was blocking the way and the more he considered the possibilities, the more worried he became. "Sara?" his voice becoming increasingly panicked each time he called her name. "Sara! Sara?" Fearing the worst he pushed until he made enough room for his slender frame to slip through. Without thinking he shut the door, locked, and dead-locked it, and looked down to see what he feared was the worst.

"Oh God!" he whispered as he fell to his knees beside her. Sara was curled up on her side, knees to chest with her cheek pressed against the cool wood floor. Her mahogany hair was strewn across her face, caught in the dried trails of tears and small splatters of blood around her wrist. "No, no, no, no, no…" Greg checked for a pulse and found one, strong and steady. Taking his eyes off her for the first time he understood why she wasn't responding; at least seven empty bottles of beer lay strewn around the room, two within her reach. Greg looked for an explanation to the blood on the wooden floor; her face was unharmed, but her wrists had numerous shallow scratches.

The feelings that pumped with each beat of his heart had finally settled on one, the desolate feeling of helplessness. She lay so peaceful, but scared; her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes darting unceasingly under her closed eyelids. Sara began to tremble, her body shuddering on the floor in front of him, her breathing becoming erratic.

"Sara? Please don't do this to me. Please" Greg whispered as he carefully brushed back her hair covering her face; tears were falling from her tightly closed eyes.

"Baby?" he said just as softly, "Talk to me, please… open your eyes." His hands were still gently combing though her hair, catching occasionally on a tangle on its way down to the nape of her neck. A shiver went down her spine as she decided to acknowledge Greg's hands moving slowly and tenderly through her hair and down her back, making gentle circles.

Her tears kept falling, no longer out of self-hate, but of foolishness. This wasn't the way it was supposed to end, no one was supposed to care; they were to find her tomorrow or the next day. She cried because she was found.

Sara looked cautiously up towards Greg's face, his eyes were closed and she could tell he was thinking, thinking about her. Faint lines where tears had fallen reflected the dying sunlight; a new tear slowly making its decent down his cheek. Reaching up she caught the tear on her thumb, as gently as he had comforted her. Her hand remained against his skin, catching each new tear as it plunged off his faint eyelashes.

After a moment, drawn out too long, his eyes slowly opened to meet hers, his fear reflected in her own eyes. Sara opened her mouth as if to speak, but her voice was distant, almost incomprehensible, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…" Each word became more difficult than the last, each word slowly broke Greg's spirit more than the one before. Sara closed her eyes; unable to see how he cried with each word she spoke.

Greg was absent from her world when Sara opened her eyes. She couldn't feel his hands caresses her back or his fingers running through her hair. Tears grew into sobs as she realized that he was just a figment of a desperate woman's imagination, hoping that someone would care. Her eyes shut again as she become aware that she was alone in her apartment.


	2. Sitting

AN: Same disclaimer as before..

* * *

"Hey now," a gentle voice whispered, "none of that." She refused to open her eyes believing her mind was yet again playing tricks on her. A cold rag was placed on her forehead as another gently wiped away the dried blood on her wrist. "You'll be okay, I promise. I'm not going to leave you." Cool fingertips were tracing her jaw line and gently following the curve of her face.

Unable to tell between real and imagined, Sara opened her eyes and extended her hand slowly to touch the figure that knelt in front of her. Her fingers were met halfway and intertwined with another hand, cool and slender. "Greg?" she whispered, not expecting an answer, but expecting silence.

"I'm here baby, I'm here." he replied as he removed the now warm cloth from her forehead and replaced it with a cool one.

* * *

It had been twenty minuets since Greg first knelt besides Sara, his mind always on the woman before him. His back was against the front door, the grooves digging into the soft flesh around his spinal cord. Sara still hadn't moved, but her hand had been tightly intertwined with his, holding on for her life.

Sara slowly sat up, feeling the tightness in her neck from the awkward position she decided to collapse into. He barely took notice as she moved next to him against her own front door. "I'm sorry Greg." she said, staring straight ahead, not wanting to look him in the eyes. He glanced over at her and noticed her distant expression. "Hey," Greg said, touching her cheek gently, "look at me."

* * *

AN: I kinda ran out of what to do from here… Please review? Please... 


	3. Yelling

AN: Look at the chapters before for the disclaimer.  Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It means so much to me, truly.

* * *

She heard him and felt his fingers against her skin, but her eyes were still focused on the painting on the far wall trying to memorize every detail of a cheap VanGogh reprint.

"Sara! Look at me, please." Greg repeated, this time his hand on her other cheek, turning her face to his. "Sara. Sara?" his voice was just a whisper, filled with hopelessness and desperation.

For the first time that night he caught her eyes and held them with everything he had. "I'm not letting go." Sara looked into his eyes and for the first time in her life, she saw the kind of love that was so real, so true, the kind of love that she had never had. "I'm sorry Greg." she whispered, taking a sharp breath to gain the composure to continue. Sara could feel his fingers tighten around hers, a signal to go on. She thought for a moment and then whispered, "What do you want me to say?"

Greg looked at her and all the emotions he had thought he would feel- this was not one of them. "Are you serious Sara? You no idea I want you to say! How about starting with not showing up for work this morning?" he could feel his emotions begin to control him but he couldn't stop them. All the questions he had been turning over in his head came sputtering out at one massive attack. "Than would you please continue to why I found you here passed out from too much alcohol. And if you get the chance, please let me know why you felt suicide was the best way to deal with whatever problems you had!"

He had gone too far, he could see that in her eyes. "Sara…" Greg started again; she turned her head forward and drew her knees to her chest. "Don't tune me out just yet."

* * *

AN: I hope to have another chapter up by tomorrow. Again, please review. I hope it doesn't seem like I'm dragging this out to far, there's just so much I want to get in. Next chapter will be the last, I promise. 


	4. Recreation

AN: This is the last chapter! whee Same disclaimer as everything else…

* * *

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, the clock on the left wall ticking off the seconds which quickly turned into minuets. His stomach decided to break the monotony by announcing that it was in desperate need of food. Sara looked up from her tear-stained jeans and glanced over at Greg, a small smirk on her lips. 

"Is my suffering entertaining to you?" he said, trying to keep his tone serious; she caught his eyes and smiled. "Well at least I'm glad that you're happy, even if it's at my own expense."

"I'll go start some coffee." she said slowly rising to her bare feet. Her hand was caught by his, "Help me up." Sara grabbed his other hand and slowly pulled him up to his feet, his face only inches from hers, his breath smelling distinctly like peppermint. She closed the distance between them and laid her head in the crook of his neck, her arms wrapping around his torso. "I felt so alone." she whispered. "I miss my parents, I miss my brother, I miss being a kid." He strengthened his embrace and began to rub her back gently, feeling the knots built up in her back. "I just, wanted to forget everything, my past, my present… I wanted to forget that I'm not loved."

He stepped back and looked in to her eyes, searching for something, anything, for the woman that he met four years ago. Somewhere deep within the last tear, he saw a glimmer that gave him hope. Greg gently placed a hand on her neck and looked in to her eyes, "Sara, you are never alone." She looked up and saw in his eyes the truth, a thing that was rare in her life. "I mean it when I say that I will never leave you." Sara nodded slightly, acknowledging his words with her heart, "I know."

After a beat Sara removed his hands from around her waist and began to walk back to the kitchen and start their forgotten coffee. "Where the hell do you think your going?" Greg said as he grabbed her retreating wrist, "I'm not finished…" She turned around and was met with his lips against hers. Sara felt something grow in her soul, a desire for life and love. She pulled back from his lips, breathless, grinning.

"You still up for coffee?" she said mischievously, "Or are you up to something a little more… recreational?"

FIN

* * *

I'll let your imagination take it from there. I might add/change it later, if creativity seems to strike. 


End file.
